


The Hangover (Not That One)

by Purpledragon6



Category: Final Space (Cartoon)
Genre: Dysfunctional Family, Family Fluff, Garycato if you squint, Gen, Hungover Gary, Little Cato is a good son
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-30
Updated: 2020-05-30
Packaged: 2021-03-03 04:20:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,030
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24458851
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Purpledragon6/pseuds/Purpledragon6
Summary: A fluffy drabble of the Cato-Goodspeed family unit in the morning.
Relationships: Avocato/Gary Goodspeed
Comments: 7
Kudos: 98





	The Hangover (Not That One)

_**A/N: Here we go.** _

* * *

Was he disappointed? No. 

Surprised? No, he wouldn't say that either. 

Sure, it wasn't everyday that Little Cato woke up to find his dads passed out on the floor, but it wasn't like he *never* saw this. Especially if it proceeded Gary loudly proclaiming that he could "Drink his best friend under the table". The guy was a lightweight in every sense of the word. Little Cato knew it, his other dad knew it, God knew it, and he was pretty sure Gary knew it too. Now, why he always insisted on drinking more than he could handle- the kitten would probably never know, and he was fine with that.

With a smirk, Little Cato made his way closer to the pair. They were sleeping so peacefully after being black out drunk most of the night. Gary was slumped across the table, with the other half of his body somehow simultaneously on his chair and on the floor. Meanwhile, Avocato was leaned back in his chair, arms crossed over his stomach, sleeping how a normal dad might after waking up too early. All in all, they looked comfortable, and part of Little Cato didn't want to disturb them...

And the other part said 'Screw it. Breakfast isn't going to make itself.' So with a mischievous smirk, the kit cupped his hands over his mouth, leaned in close, and-

"ITS 9AM! ONE OF YOU HAS TO GET UP AND FEED ME!"

In a split second, Gary was flailing violently on the floor, and Avocato was up with his gun drawn. Normally, seeing that would have startled Little Cato- but considering the gun was set to stun and was pointing in the *wrong* direction, he let it slide. Actually, it made him laugh a little. 

"Hey dads." He snickered,

"Hiya, Li-Little... OhmygodmyheadhurtsoBAAAAD!" Gary greeted, promptly throwing himself back onto the floor and covering his face with his arms. 

"Damn... Son, warn a man when you're about to start yelling like that." Avocato snapped, followed by an almost laughable attempt at re-holstering his gun- one that took two more tries than usual and had Little Cato on the verge of snickering again. 

"Dads- how wasted are you still?" The boy asked, casting a knowing smirk down at Gary, who was still flopping around in utter confusion, "If Gary's this messed up still, I'd say its safe to say you aren't sober either."

"Not at all. I'm fine." His dad huffed, "Just startled."

"Forgive me for being skeptic." Little Cato replied, kicking over a beer can and sending it rolling towards a pile... Of other empty beer cans. 

If he had to guess, he'd say there was at least 12 there. And given that Gary's usual limit was about half of one, he felt it safe to assume that the rest were his other dad's... Then again, Gary might've been determined last night. 

"Son, your old man can handle a couple beers... Well, one of them, anyway." Avocato said, nudging his son's shoulder affectionately. "I can see you doing the math in your head, thats how sober I am."

"Alright, so I take it you'll be the one to make breakfast then?" With that, Little Cato slipped into the seat his dad once occupied and looked up with with the sweetest face he could muster. 

"Thats what you woke us up for? Boy, why didn't you just get yourself a bowl of cereal or something?" The older ventrexian raised an eyebrow- but still reached for a nearby pan. 

"I thought of that, but Gary ate the rest of the Lucky Charms and threw them back up after you passed out last night." He nudged Gary with his foot for emphasis, "And since I can't use the stov-"

A wave of a pan cut the boy off. He caught sight of the defeated (and amused) look on his father's face. 

"Alright, alright boy... I'll make you some eggs." He won this round. 

"I'd prefer pancakes." The shit-eating grin he wore would make both of his dad's so proud if they could see straight.

"Don't push your luck." Oh well-

Suddenly, Gary was up off the floor- granted, he was still kneeling on the floor with his face on the chair, but it was close enough. 

"W-want pancakes too..." The blonde slurred, rubbing his eyes with his palms. "Avocado! Make our boy pancakes! And me."

"See dad? Its two against one." Little Cato laughed as he hopped out of his chair to assist Gary into his. "Pancakes, pancakes, pancakes!" 

Soon even Gary joined in the chanting, only stopping when one particular "pancake" was chanted too loudly and he had to put his head down. It was kind of nice knowing that Gary had his son's back even when he wasn't in his right mind. And it seemed to do the trick, as Little Cato happily watched his other dad roll his eyes and grab a mixing bowl from one of the kitchen cabinets. 

"You're just lucky I love you two..." Avocato sighed, grabbing a bag of pancake mix from the top shelf before adding, "And would do anything to make you stop chanting like that."

"We know." Little Cato was then promptly pulled into a tight hug by a now sniffling Gary. 

"He loves us so much, little man- So much!" The man said, running his metal hand down Little Cato's fur, "And we love pancakes."

Easing out of of Gary's hold, the kitten started for the first aid kit that was hung up on the kitchen wall. Being the dutiful son he was, and to thank Gary for being on his side, he figured he's help ease Gary's headache by grabbing him a few aspirin... Or a Xanax. Whichever he needed more. Which reminded him-

"... Hey, dad?" Little Cato started, earning a 'Yeeeees?' from Gary, "No, other dad. How much DID Gary drink last night?" 

"Son, I don't think he even got the first can open." Thought so.

"Xanax it is then..." 

A beat, followed by a very soft whimper from Gary. "I thought we were having pancakes..."

"Dad... And yes, this time I'm talking to you, Gary- shut up."


End file.
